Yes. It's one of those stories.
But also not.
We didn't date Freshman year. We both had our silly Freshman excuses for romances, and as the school year faded into summer and we separately faced turning points in our lives, we found a friend in each other. We text messaged quite frequently, me from Utah and he in Arizona. He sympathized with my constant food cravings during my cleanse and offered me comfort through some of my dating hardships. He always offered a patient listening ear, a word of wisdom, and a hearty sense of humor when I needed someone to talk to. He was a breath of fresh air and I always enjoyed our interactions.
Tyler was called to serve a mission for two years in San Jose, California for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He left at the end of August, 2011. He and his sweet mom had dinner at our apartment the night before he went into the MTC. My roommates and I fed him spaghetti for his last meal so that he would not soon forget college cuisine.
I wrote him fairly consistently over the course of his mission (excepting a few months that I spent pledging my loyalty in relationships that were doomed for failure, after which I bombarded him with mopey and insensitive letters that he patiently, kindly, selflessly responded to). I sent him birthday and Christmas packages full of poorly made, poorly packaged baked goods and Instagram pictures cut out of printer paper.
He surprised me with the occasional Christmas card, birthday card, and pictures of his adventures. His handwriting was always better than mine. Our weekly letters contained the week's developments and coy but increasingly frequent hints at our interest in each other. We got to know one another fairly well, but more importantly, we learned that we wanted to know even more. A lot more. Everything.
We were against the odds, I think. I heard a disheartening number of tales of girls who wrote missionaries expecting it to blossom into a fairy tale love when he got home, only to find that they didn't mesh as well as they thought they would and it fizzled into nothingness. I spent hours worrying that I would fall short of his expectations and get disappointed. I was afraid to let myself get excited about him. But I prayed that if the feeling was mutual and if it would be good for us, that the Lord would guide my life in such a way that it might include Tyler.
When the presidency of my church lowered the age for girls to serve an 18-month mission from 21 to 19, I seriously considered serving a mission. I tried to convince myself that if it was the right thing it would work out, but it never quite settled with me knowing that if I went, Tyler would very likely not be single when I got home. So instead, I continued to take classes. I got a job more relevant to my major. I ran a couple marathons. I came to enjoy myself and slowly stopped feeling dependent on being in a relationship to be fulfilled in life. It was a development process I needed to undergo. As I look back on the two years we spent writing while we were apart, I feel grateful for the time I had to grow and get an idea of what a relationship and marriage should be from wonderful couples who were such incredible examples to me. I grew in my mindset that a happy relationship would be the fruit of becoming the best version of myself that I could be. I grew emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually.
Before long, he only had 6 months left. Then 4. Then one. And suddenly he was coming homing tomorrow and I was full of nerves and excitement to finally be able to talk to my good friend for more than one letter a week, and hopeful anticipation that maybe he would be as fond of (er.. Obsessed with..) me as I was of him. But I still tried to calm myself with a steady reminder that nothing was certain and it might not work out. I was very afraid of getting my hopes up.
But Tyler surprised me, and has kept surprising me since the day he got home. When I thought he would need a few days adjusting from being an awkward RM before he could call me, he called me the night he got home and talked with me for hours without a single sign of discomfort. When I thought I'd have to wait months before we'd both be in the same state, he gave me the best birthday present I've ever received: he road tripped 10 hours to see me after only 10 days of being back. He was not the exact person I had come to expect, but he was everything I had grown to need, and it just fell into place.
It wasn't perfect. Long distance was hard, and when he moved to Provo, adjusting to a full time relationship had its challenges. We had to learn how to handle each other's temperaments and work around each other's schedules. We had a few misunderstandings that required long, painful talks. But we always had a common goal of making the other happy and just wanted to be with each other.
I love this story. I have enjoyed every single leg of this journey, each bringing different emotions and teaching me different lessons. I am so grateful to have found this man who is willing to embark on it with me, with unimaginable and unanticipated challenges and joys, who above all I know will persevere with me. I can't wait for tomorrow, and the day after that, and all the days after that. Forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment